Few tears were shed at the jailing of Abu Hamza last week. Most Britons were relieved that the cell door had slammed shut on a man who has come to embody every western stereotype about Islam. Notwithstanding the lampooning of Hamza's disabilities to create his caricature, even the Muslim community struggled to find a sympathetic soundbite.

And yet sympathise we must if we are to remain true to the principles of defending the rights of our community and Britain's civil and political liberties. In our satisfaction at seeing Hamza jailed we have given succour to the enemies of freedom. That is out of character for the Muslim community, which has been in the vanguard of opposition to anti-terrorism legislation. While most of their coreligionists in the Commons have supported the measures currently proposed by the government, the grassroots have resisted on the grounds that the proposals cordon off unwarranted areas of expression. Just as importantly, they fear that in the climate of Islamophobia the law will be used against dissenters.

Hamza is a case in point. He was convicted on six counts of soliciting murder under the Offences Against the Person Act 1861. As the date suggests, it's an archaic piece of legislation; the soliciting provisions had, in effect, lain in abeyance for over 100 years until 2003, when they were used to convict another loose-tongued preacher, Abdullah el-Faisal. As the Guardian noted then, it was the first time in over a century that a charge of soliciting murder under the act had been used in a case where the prospective assailant and target were unidentified.

The double standard in this becomes evident when you consider how many people could have been hauled in under this legislation and weren't. Theoretically the rapper Buju Banton could still be prosecuted for advocating the murder of homosexuals in an infamous 1992 track, Boom Bye Bye. Or, for that matter, the poet Tom Paulin, for telling an Egyptian newspaper in 2002 that Jewish settlers should be shot dead.

Hamza was also found guilty of stirring up racial hatred, underlining the point that this legislation has become an anti-Muslim cudgel. El-Faisal was also convicted of the same in 2003 and jailed.

Earlier this month we saw the BNP's Nick Griffin and Mark Collett acquitted of inciting hatred against Muslims, apparently because the statements they made were directed against a faith group, not a racial group. The Commons also voted to defang the government's attempt to outlaw incitement to religious hatred, leaving us with a situation where the offence encompasses a narrower range of behaviour than its racial counterpart, making it more difficult to enforce.

Then there's the dreaded Terrorism Act 2000, Britain's anti-Muslim "sus law". Hamza was convicted of having a handbook of guerrilla warfare originating in Afghanistan. Critics have noted how this act is so broad it can draw in anybody, from the protester sympathising with armed resistance to the occupations of Iraq and Palestine to the downloading of information from the internet. There was no requirement for the jury to be convinced that Hamza had ever used the information - possession was enough.

Our loathing of Hamza and his ilk should not blind us to the price the war on terror is exacting. This week sees the terrorism bill back in the Commons for a vote that seeks to extend the definition of terrorism by outlawing statements that glorify the conduct it already embraces. Why should the law differentiate terrorism from gangsta rap, whose glorification of violence exacts many casualties on our streets?

Even before the war on terror we had started to lose our liberties to politicians who wanted to erect a shield around future iniquities. They are free to wage illegal wars in which the original crime is compounded by abuses and atrocities, but we have to watch what we say. The widening net has caught Hamza, but relief and satisfaction are the wrong responses. None of us is safe.